Sauce for the Gander
by kezztip
Summary: Set during Promosaurus. What if Rachel had not forgiven Finn so easily for the whole "taking Quinn to prom without telling her" mess? This is the story of how Rachel turns the tables on Finn with the aid of a certain miva who just cannot resist her, no matter how hard he tries.
1. Chapter 1

**SAUCE FOR THE GANDER**

_**Set during Promosaurus. What if Rachel had not forgiven Finn so easily for the whole "taking Quinn to prom without telling her" mess? This is the story of how Rachel turns the tables on Finn with the aid of a certain miva who just cannot resist her, no matter how hard he tries.**_

"Have you heard about Hudson and Fabray?"

Rachel, deep in concentration as she grappled with her biology notes, felt her hair stand on end as the gossip of the two girls seated in front of her reached her ears. Those were two surnames she had thought she would never have to suffer hearing coupled together, not since she became engaged to the male half of that equation.

"Word is they're back together."

"Really? Wasn't he engaged to that short loud girl?"

"Must have come to his senses. Quinn's still the cream of the crop at McKinley, even if she is in a wheelchair, and that trumps a gleek. Anyhow, if you don't believe me, just check out the main hallway after class – their prom campaign posters are everywhere."

That was all Rachel needed to hear. Her hand shot up for bathroom break permission and within the same minute she was striding towards the hallway in question with a militant gleam in her eyes. In spite of what she had overheard, she was still shocked when she saw the huge poster displaying Finn and Quinn together with "King & Queen" boldly blocked across their images. At first she thought this must be one of the more imaginative cruel pranks to add to her high school torment record – that Quinn had reverted to her old ways and was messing with her mind. Then she realised Quinn was too smart to make such a claim if it wasn't true as she would look pretty pathetic when Finn immediately denied it.

But if this wasn't one of Quinn's schemes, that could only mean...

Rachel furiously tore down the poster and marched over to her boyfriend's locker, where he happened to be changing over his schoolbooks.

"Hey, did you know about this?" she demanded as she waved the poster in his startled face. "I know you knew about this because it was hung at eye level and I know Quinn couldn't reach up that high to put it there."

Finn made calming gestures with his hands. "Whoa, whoa, remember when I told you that if you come at me with the crazy all off the bat that my head goes all empty and I can't really – "

"This isn't crazy, this is mad, this is hurt." Rachel cried.

"This isn't a big deal," Finn replied in the kind of calm voice you would use to soothe a wild animal.

"Not a big deal? I'm going to have to watch my fiancé dance in front of the entire school with his ex-girlfriend at _my_ senior prom."

"If you haven't noticed, Quinn can't dance. She just about died coming to our wedding. She asked me if I would campaign with her and I figured it was the least I could do for our friend. I can't believe how selfish you're being."

Selfish? Finn commits himself to take his ex-girlfriend to the most important dance of their high school career in the most public way possible without giving any warning to his current girlfriend – no, scrap that, fiancé – and she is being selfish for making an objection? He knew how important this dance was to her – after that disastrous audition for NYADA had obliterated all her showbiz dreams, she had told him how she was going to focus on smaller, realer dreams that could be achieved, such as graduation, Nationals and more immediately – prom.

It was not even that she seriously thought he was still in love with Quinn (although she was not as convinced Quinn was as indifferent to him), it was just that it seemed like whenever a friend needed a favour from him, whether it be Puck asking him to start a pool business in California or Quinn wanted to score some ridiculous piece of rhinestone and tin to perch on top of her blonde skull – those people and their needs were always more important than hers. Even when she and Kurt had been running against each other for School President, he would not promise to vote for her but felt his allegiance to his stepbrother was stronger than to his girlfriend. And always, he made her feel selfish for not agreeing immediately to his plans.

Rachel took a deep breath as an icy calm settled over her. She loved Finn (_she did!_) but sometimes she just wanted to take his head and beat her point of view into it, to make him feel what she feels. Words were no use – he just wrote them off as "her crazy". It would take drastic measures to get her point across but if she and Finn were going to spend a lifetime with each other, this was a lesson he needed to learn.

"You know Finn," Rachel said in a more controlled voice, "my great Aunt Velma had an old saying; what's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander."

"Sauce? Why are we talking about cooking? Are we finished with the prom talk, then? That's cool because I've got to get to practice." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'll see you in Glee."

Rachel stood frozen in the hallway as he walked away, her mind busily clicking away with a plan of attack. Her eyes scanned the poster in her hands, struck by the déjà vu of Finn and Quinn on a prom campaign poster, just like their junior prom.

Just like junior prom... when she had gone with Jesse St James. Rachel's mouth curled up into a evil smirk that would have gotten a thumbs-up from Santana Lopez herself.

She needed to get to her computer immediately – she had a powerpoint presentation to make.

GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE /

"You call that a high C? Get off my stage, you miserable excuse for a soprano," Jesse barked. The young boy stared at him in terror for a few seconds before bolting away like a frightened bunny. "That goes for the rest of you as well – go home and don't come back here until you improve enough that it doesn't make my stomach turn to witness your dismal performance." The Vocal Adrenaline members were just as quick to take their leave, groaning in pain at their exhausted muscles that had been pushed past the point of endurance by the 4 hour rehearsal. And to think they had thought Shelby Corcoran was a slave driver – she was a peach compared to Jesse St James.

"What is his problem?" a sophomore groaned to a senior. "You used to know him when he was one of us – was he always such a dick?"

"Nah, he's just in a bad mood," his fellow member answered.

"Yeah, going on 9 months now," another chipped in.

Back in the Carmel Auditorium, Jesse ran a hand through his wavy hair, something he did when he was nervous or frustrated. He knew he was probably coming down on his performers too hard, but it was so infuriating to watch these kids sing the lyrics and dance the steps and know that he could do it so much better than them. He sighed, pushing down that feeling in his gut that told him he should be on that stage, not in the shadows. There would be time for that, he promised himself, but for now Vocal Adrenaline _had_ to win Nationals. He could not fail at this, not when his job was the only thing he had left in his life to be passionate about. A win at Nationals from a director of his young age would surely get the attention of people in the Industry and could open the doors he needed to go onto the fame he so richly deserved.

_I used to think that fame was the only thing that mattered, and then I realised there was something that mattered to me more – you._

Yeah, right. See what that got him – a position as the assistant choir director that nobody listened to and watching the girl he thought cared for him kiss her oafish ex-boyfriend in front of the whole world. At least he was done with that embarrassing episode of his life, considering he had heard she was now engaged to said oaf. He also learned she had flubbed her NYADA audition, which he had felt some pained sympathy for – been there, done that. He hoped she had the good sense to choose some back-up schools for that eventuality, but knowing Rachel's all or nothing mentality, he wouldn't be surprised if she had thought in her overconfidence that would be unnecessary.

Just then his phone buzzed and without checking the caller ID he answered, "Go for St James."

"Jesse?" He almost dropped the phone when he recognised her melodious voice. He gaped in disbelief. "Rachel?"

"Jesse, I need your help. Can you meet me tonight?"

_Fight it, St James_, Jesse scolded himself. _Don't give in._ "Rachel, I don't think..."

"Please, Jesse. _Please_."

"I'll be there in an hour."

GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE /

_Fool. Idiot. Moron._

"Jesse, are you alright?" Rachel asked anxiously as her companion slowly beat his head against the wooden table. "Could you please stop doing that? The other patrons are starting to look at us."

"So let me get this straight," Jesse said wearily as he sat back in the diner booth and stared at his infuriating (but still gorgeous) ex. "The help you so desperately need is for me to take you to your senior prom to make your fiancé jealous?"

"I think the 20 point presentation I just gave made that abundantly clear." Rachel scrutinized Jesse with concern. He was not usually so slow on the uptake. Actually, he had always been particularly adept at following her thought processes, often beating her to her own conclusion. "Would you like me to go over the pie chart again?" she asked helpfully.

"Rachel, I have absolutely no interest in becoming another plot device in this pointless telenovella you're living in."

"It is not pointless," Rachel protested mulishly. "As I explained at point 17, it is essential for my future happiness with Finn that he understands the effect his actions have on others – more specifically, me. I know this all sounds like some grand revenge scheme, but it is not! I am simply trying to make my feelings known by means of a performance based drama with real life applications. Finn will be a better man for it, I assure you."

"Have you ever thought of – I don't know – just telling him how you feel?"

"He doesn't listen to me," Rachel blurted out angrily.

"Well, that sounds like a healthy relationship," Jesse jibed as he chased down his coke.

"Please, Jesse. It's just one night. It'll be fun, even."

"Yes, I wouldn't use "fun" as the word to describe the McKinley High proms. My own personal experience would lean more towards "violent" and "mortifying". Of course, you would know this if you had bothered to follow me out after I got evicted from your last prom."

Rachel had the grace to look ashamed. "I always meant to apologise to you for that," Rachel admitted. "I just didn't know what to do and Quinn was so upset with me – I just wanted to reassure her that I never meant for that whole silly fight to happen but then she slapped me and we had this heart to heart and by the time I remembered you it was too late. I tried to find you but you were gone." That's because I was doubled up in pain after Finn sucker punched me as soon as Coach Sylvester's back was turned, Jesse thought wrathfully, remembering the surprise blow to his stomach the quarterback had laid on him for daring to take his ex-girlfriend to the dance. He had spent the next hour in the bushes, puking up his pasta special, before crawling to his car to beat an ignoble retreat.

"So you forgot about me, huh? Kind of like how you forgot about me last year when you kissed Finn on the stage at Nationals?"

"Finn kissed me," Rachel said in a small voice. "I never meant for that to happen."

"Well, you sure seemed happy to go with it, even if his moron actions did cost you placing at Nationals and made you a Youtube joke. And now you've signed on to be Mrs Moron, judging from the rumours and that cubic zirconia on your finger. Congratulations – you've really done well, hitching your star to his wagon. Why at this rate, you'll have 3 kids before you're 22 while your loving husband is jockeying for that assistant mechanic position at the tire factory." He waited for Rachel to furiously deny his predictions, to assert her certain future as a rising star.

Instead she did not move a muscle, just looked at him with the saddest eyes ever and replied "There is nothing wrong with a small town life."

Jesse stared at her in shock. "Nothing wrong...? Rachel, what happened to you? Where's the Rachel that counted down all the roles she would play on Broadway?"

"She grew up," the brunette snapped. "She had her dreams shattered when the one thing she had always relied on, her talent, betrayed her when she needed it most." Rachel took a deep breath as she wiped away a pesky tear. "I've moved on from those pipe dreams, Jesse. Now I need to concentrate on what I have and make the best of it."

A whole slew or protests and counter arguments were on the tip of Jesse's tongue but he held them back. He was silent for long enough to make Rachel fidget nervously. Just when she had despaired of his co-operation, he finally spoke. "Okay, I'll help you."

Rachel blinked. "You will?"

"Yes."

"Jesse, I... thank you. Truly, Jesse, I can't... thank you so much." She shook her head ruefully. "I know I don't deserve your kindness."

"No, you don't." Jesse agreed, taking out some notes from his wallet to cover the bill and standing up. "I'll pick you up at 7 next Friday."

Rachel nodded rapidly. "Of course, I will naturally be perfectly groomed at that time and awaiting your arrival. Would you like some money for gas? It is a fair drive from Carmel to Lima and as I remember your Range Rover requires a shockingly wasteful amount of fuel so I would be more than happy to contribute..." Jesse just rolled his eyes as he walked away from her mico-managing spiel, throwing a wink to the waitress who had been eyeing him all night.

He was just driving away when he heard a voice float across the parking lot, yelling words that sounded vaguely like "PINK BOUTINIERRE!"

GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE /

It was the day before prom when the excrement collided with the electric rotating device, so to speak. Finn had noticed that Rachel had been somewhat distant with him since their spat in the hallway, but at least she had not mentioned prom to him since that first time. He had even tentatively broached the subject himself, asking what time she would like him to pick her up (because of course he intended to be dancing with her when he wasn't doing the prom king and queen stuff with Quinn) but she had just looked at him with disinterested eyes and told him she had made her own arrangements. He couldn't wait for this stupid dance to be over with so he and Rachel could get back to the way they were before – he hadn't had any action from her since this whole prom thing blew up.

It had been a weird week, actually. For the last few days his friends had been giving him strange looks, whispering to each other while looking at him, asking him how he was _feeling_. It kind of reminded him of that time when everybody knew Quinn was having Puck's baby and he was the last to know. He hated that feeling.

He was not kept in suspense for much longer, thanks to one Santana Lopez who delighted in being the bearer of bad tidings, especially when the recipient was one Finn "Orca" Hudson.

"Hey Tubs, don't you know you're not supposed to relive your high school experiences until you're at least 30 and have failed at everything you ever attempted and you're suddenly realising that your life is never going to get any better?"

"What are you talking about, Santana? And my name is not 'Tubs'."

"Then why did you answer to it? And I'm talking about how you and your hobbit wifey-to-be are totally regressing, what with you and Quinn being all Mr & Mrs Prom Queen and Berry hauling the Mr Shue wannabe in her wake." Finn gave her his most irritating constipated look as he tried to comprehend what she had said.

"Huh?"

"Don't blow a gasket on my account, Hudson. Let me break it down in a way you can understand." She held up one finger. "RACHEL". She held up the other finger. "JESSE". She then turned the first 'Rachel' finger into a circle by meeting her thumb and poked the 'Jesse' finger through the circle. Repeatedly. "PROM".

Finn's face was a mask of shock and horror. "That's not true! That's impossible! Who told you that?"

"I got that straight from the horse's mouth. She's in the choir room right now." Finn gawked at her for a second and then broke into a sprint. "And yes, that was a reference to her nose," Santana yelled after him.

"Rachel," Finn panted as he raced through the choir room door. She was seated in her usual chair, leafing through some sheet music, not even raising her head at his arrival. "What's going on?"

"Could you be more specific, Finn? At this current moment what is going on is we are waiting on Mr Shue to join us for Glee practice. How that man expects us to win Nationals when his chronic lack of punctuality cuts into our rehearsal time is beyond me."

"I'm talking about this crazy rumour that Jesse St James is taking you to prom," Finn said impatiently. He noticed that none of the New Directions members were meeting his eyes, which gave him a very bad feeling about this whole thing.

"Oh, are you just hearing about that?" Rachel asked innocently. "It's been common knowledge for a while. I would have thought someone would have told you by now."

"Someone would have... why didn't you tell me? And why are you going to _our_ senior prom with St Jerk?"

"To answer your first question, I know how you believe that hearing your fiancé is going to a couples event with their ex is something that should be announced on a 5 by 3 foot poster in a public hallway, but I've been so darn busy with my song selections I didn't have time to make one up so I just relied on the McKinley gossip grapevine to notify you of the fact."

Finn heard a muffled chuckle to his left and gave a quick glare at Puck, who turned it into a cough.

"And secondly, I was thinking about how you said it was selfish of me to be thinking about my own feelings and possible social embarrassment when there was an opportunity available to help a friend and make up for pain we had unwittingly caused that friend in the past. Which is why Jesse is the perfect choice to escort me to the prom, for you and I have certainly mistreated him quite shockingly, when you take into account last year's prom and the whole Nationals debacle. I am hoping by giving him the perfect prom experience he was denied last year, it will go some way to make amends. Much like you and Quinn," Rachel pointed out with a bright smile. Finn stared at his fiancé in a kind of bewildered stupor. "Ah, I believe Mr Shue has finally arrived. Take your seat now, honey," she said, pulling on his hand. Finn dropped unthinkingly into his seat, wondering if this strange numbness was what a heart attack led with.

"So guys, are we ready to get to work on our show-stopping routine?" Mr Shue asked as he walked through the door.

"Sorry, Mr Shue, but you've just missed the main event," Kurt said as he smirked at his best friend. "Anything else will be an anti-climax." Finn really had mangled this prom situation terribly, it was nice to see Rachel standing up for herself against him. "Brava, Diva," he whispered in her ear.

**A.N. I'm thinking this will be a two-parter. Hope you enjoyed – please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**A.N. Hurray! I have returned – just when you thought I had abandoned another story. Never fear, I have been battling all night to finish this but it has gotten too long and my bed is calling me so I'll post the rest soon (it will be a short third chapter, I think) and I hope you enjoy this one. And if I happen to voice any of your frustrations with the past and current season of Glee, then you owe me a review!**

"Rachel - your date is here, princess."

Responding promptly to her cue, Rachel floated downstairs in her champagne pink strapless gown, cheeks blushing at the open admiration stamped across Jesse's face.

"Hi," he breathed, momentarily starstruck before he pulled himself together and cleared his throat. "Perfectly groomed as promised, I see."

Rachel brushed a fingertip over the delicately pink rosebud in his lapel. "Thank you. I also find your grooming quite... fastidious." They both smiled at the small in-joke.

"Aww - aren't they adorable, LeRoy?" Hiram said, wiping away a mock tear. "Come on, snap yourself out of your Tony Danza ice fishing fantasies and set up the tripod so we can get the pre-prom photo session underway."

"You're never letting that go, are you?" LeRoy sighed as he positioned the set lights. "I just need to take a light meter reading and we can begin."

"Dads, we really need to get going..." Rachel attempted, trying to spare Jesse from her fathers' usual over the top antics. She knew Finn would be pulling at his collar and inching towards the door at this point.

"Nonsense, there's always time for a photo session," Jesse declared, a sentiment which gained him approving nods from both of the Berry men. He tugged Rachel in front of the tripod and was only mildly surprised to see an actual mark duct-taped over the carpet where they were to stand.

"Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?" Rachel asked over her shoulder as Jesse wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

"Well, I already figured that the same men who kept all your baby teeth in a jar would not let their only daughter go to her senior prom without recording the moment for posterity." Rachel nudged his stomach with her elbow, stifling a giggle when Jesse squeezed her tighter in revenge. _Besides, it's even money her Dads will be mounting one of these pictures over the fireplace where Finn will have to look at it every time he's in this house._

GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE / GLEE /

"So. Dinosaurs." Jesse raised an inquiring eyebrow at his date.

"Brittney took over the prom committee."

"Say no more."

"Still," Rachel mused, taking in the whole picture – the high spirits, the enthusiastic dancing, the giant paper-mache T-rex – "it turned out surprisingly well."

"Rachel!" The petite brunette swirled around at the voice of her best gay. "You're here! And looking utterly divine, I must jealously admit." He nodded coolly in Jesse's direction. "St James."

"Thank you, Kurt. Where's Blaine?" Rachel asked.

"In the bathroom trying to separate the hair gel from his hair; he tried to buck the system, but Brittney used her executive power and enforced her draconian prom law regarding no hair products. You should probably watch your back, Jesse."

"No fear – I control my mane through sheer force of will," Jesse stated. "Nice top hat, Kurt."

"He _does_ say all the right things," Kurt smiled with a raised eyebrow.

"Alright, teenage mutant songsters, keep it moving," Sue barked from behind them. "No loitering, especially not near Sue Sylvester's Super Special Prombrosia. That better not be a hip flask in your pocket, Porcelain, or I'll be taking a machete to your cravat collection." She then turned her basilisk glare on Jesse. "And as for you, Marvellous Marvin, I've got my eye on you. Don't go pulling any of that fighting crap like last year."

"Jesse didn't fight," Rachel defended her date, stepping in front of him protectively. "He just ducked when Finn tried to punch him."

"Exactly! What kind of sissy-weak fight was that? Shoving and ducking! At my junior prom when someone started a brawl, there was none of this schoolyard shoving – it was bare knuckles, body blows and kidney punches all the way. At our last high school reunion we all sat around and compared battle scars. Now that's a prom!"

"Er, Coach, I think I see Puck heading over to the refreshments table," Rachel distracted the insane educator. Sure enough, she was soon barrelling through the throngs of teens in pursuit of the next threat to her punchbowl.

"You know, I think she's mellowing," Kurt mused. "She seems a lot calmer this year."

"Anyhow, I don't think I'll be needing to jump into any fights this year," Jesse said, grinning down at Rachel, "not when Miss Berry here is so quick to come to my defence."

She shrugged, blushing lightly. "Better late than never, right?" As Kurt looked between the two, the air between them charged with some strange feeling, he felt the odds that this prom would be violence-free plummeting; especially now that Finn had caught sight of his fiancé and her date.

"Excuse me, Jayze and Beyonce," Kurt interrupted their moment, nodding towards the tall young man striding towards them, "But... Finncoming."

"Good Finn pun," Jesse acknowledged, tearing his eyes away from Rachel to assess the threat.

"Thanks. I wish I could hang around but this shirt is Armani and bloodstains are a bitch to get out." So saying, Kurt melted into the dancing crowd, just as Finn reached the couple. Once again, Rachel stood in front of Jesse, raising her chin defiantly towards her boyfriend while Jesse enjoyed the way her back barely brushed against his front.

"Step away from the slimeball, Rachel," Finn gritted as his enraged eyes clashed with Jesse's mocking smirk.

"Finn, I must insist you cease referring to my date with such derogatory remarks," Rachel said firmly.

"Derogatory is another word for insulting," Jesse's explanation removed the confused/constipated look from Finn's face.

"Well, you're my fiancé so that gives me the right to call any guy who goes near you whatever I want," Finn countered, and then folded his arms with the satisfaction of one who has made a compelling argument. Jesse waited for Rachel to laugh in Finn's face at this piece of verbal rubbish but to his amazement some of the steel went out of her spine at his words and a flicker of doubt crossed her face. Was she actually buying this?

"Look, Hudson, I don't know what century you're living in but, here in the 21st, women aren't treated like they're the personal property of the man they're dating," Jesse explained. "Just because Rachel has, for whatever inexplicable reason, agreed to tie herself down to you doesn't give you carte blanche to step all over her decisions or her friends."

"Why don't you just stay out of this, St Jerk! There must be some other girl out there who's stupid enough to fall for your lines, right up to the moment when you crack an egg on her head."

"Wait – did you just call Rachel stupid?" Jesse asked. Anger immediately chased away the self-doubt on Rachel's face at Finn's implication while Finn went from smug to terrified in a nanosecond. He then compounded his blunder by trying to rationalise it.

"No, of course not! I mean, you were kind of stupid back then to think that Jesse actually cared about you when it was obvious he couldn't possibly – I mean, there was no other reason other than show choir for him to pretend to – "

"Pretend to what, Finn? Love me?" Rachel finished, hurt evident in her voice. "Is it so far-fetched that someone else could find me lovable?"

"Look, it doesn't matter now anyway! We all know you were only with him then to make me jealous, just like you're doing the same thing now, asking him to prom just because I asked Quinn first. Don't think I bought all that "making amends" talk. It's obvious you're here with Jesse just to spite me. At least I wasn't trying to hurt you when I agreed to go with Quinn."

"I know you weren't trying to hurt me, Finn," Rachel said quietly. "But it would have meant so much more to me if you were." She then turned to Jesse. "Would you like to dance now, Jesse?" Her eyes, suspiciously moist, begged him to say yes. With a nod, he took her hand and removed her from the painful scene as Finn watched her go, mute incomprehension in his dog-like eyes.

They danced in silence for the first half of some manically-depressed Adele ballad, Rachel's head nestled against Jesse's shoulder as they swayed. Until the wavy haired youth could no longer hold back his curiosity. "Okay, I hate to sound like Finn but I don't get it." Rachel looked up at him.

"What?"

"Why would it have been better if Finn asked Quinn to the prom out of spite? Ethics aren't exactly my strong suit, I admit, but wouldn't that be a bad thing?"

Rachel paused so long that Jesse thought she had ignored his question. Then she said "You are in a play on Broadway. It's opening night, the night you have been dreaming of all your life. You give the performance all you have, you hold nothing back. Then the next morning you get all the newspapers and sift through them for reviews of the play, and more importantly, your performance." She looked Jesse in the eye. "The play is only reviewed in two papers – one of those reviews never even mentions you – not your name, not your character, nothing. Everybody else is fairly critiqued but you may as well have been invisible for all that is said of you. But in the other paper, you are noticed with a vengeance. The critic points out the moment when your voice wavered imperceptibly on a high note, or your footwork was not as sharp as it could be. It is like reviewing a one-man show, the reviewer is so fixated on you to the exclusion of everyone else. So the question is, Jesse, which of those two reviews would you hate the least?"

"The second one," Jesse chose immediately. "Of course."

"Even if you look at the name of the critic and realize it was written by a fellow drama student who was always jealous of your talent?" Rachel added.

"Even then," Jesse said, smiling sadly at Rachel as he took her point. "Better to be in the front of someone's mind, even if only in spite, than to be forgotten altogether."

"Exactly," Rachel sighed. "Finn said yes to Quinn's prom proposal not to hurt me but because he forgot about me – because my feelings weren't important enough to him to even remember, let alone hurt. If it had been spite, at least then it would have been about me." She looked up at Jesse beseechingly. "Is that selfish? That I wanted him to think about me first, even when he was just trying to do a friend a favour? Oh God, that does sound selfish. What have I done?."

"Before you go running off to Finn or Quinn to make some abject apology which takes all the blame upon yourself and leaves them white as snow," Jesse forestalled, "Let me tell you that wanting the person you love to consider your feelings, that's not selfish, Rach," Jesse reassured, smoothing his hand comfortingly over her back before she started to hyperventilate. "In fact, it gives me hope. I was afraid your self-esteem was completely beaten down when I saw your reaction to Finn's caveman act before, but if you're willing to stand up for your right to be noticed, then I guess there may still be traces of the girl I used to pretend to love."

"Pretend?" Rachel cried indignantly, her self-reproach forgotten. "What do you mean pretend?"

"Come on, Rachel," Jesse cajoled as he spun her under his arm to the up-beat love song Santana was singing to Brittany. "Didn't you hear what Finn said? I pretended to love you to win a competition just like you pretended to love me to make Finn jealous. You really should pay attention when someone tells you what your subconscious motivations were."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at her escort. "I know what you're doing, Jesse! Don't think you can distract me with your... your Finntellectual arguments."

Jesse gave a shout of laughter. "And the award for best Finn pun of the night goes to..."

Rachel looked regretful for a moment. "Oh dear. Please don't tell Santana I said that. After all the times I've scolded her for the same thing, she will never let me hear the end of it."

"Hear the end of what, Berry?" the girl in question asked, approaching her fellow diva from behind.

"Speak of the devil and she doth appear," Jesse murmured.

"So what were you tortured drama queens moaning about?" Santana demanded, hands on hips. "Can't find a jazz-hands class that works around your ballet schedule?"

"Nothing," Rachel said quickly. "We were talking about nothing."

"Well, I wouldn't say nothing," Jesse pondered, ignoring Rachel's warning glare. "We were just having a little philosophic discussion about life imitating art. How sometimes what starts out as a performance takes on a life of its own."

Rachel's glare transformed into Jesse's favourite smile of hers – starry eyes with lips gently curling upwards. "Yes, the capacity of pretence to transform into something of great significance is a common theme in the dramatic arts."

Santana rolled her eyes. "My God, I had forgotten how nauseating it is to listen to you two talk, like you're sharing one Broadway-obsessed brain. When it's one on one I can just hold down my breadsticks but talking to you in stereo is _exhausting_. Why don't you just stop wasting all that oxygen on words, go behind the Stegosaurus backdrop and Jurassic pork your brains out - give the rest of us a break from the UST." Santana smirked at Rachel's shocked-drop-jaw expression (which is what she had been going for all along).

"What are you doing here, Santana? Did you approach us just to make snide remarks and lewd innuendos?" Rachel asked impatiently as Jesse silently laughed beside her.

"Why else would I talk to you?" Santana said, eyes wide. Then she laughed at Rachel's smouldering glare. "I'm kidding, dwarf. Actually, there was something I came over here to tell you." Santana looked thoughtful, as though trying to recall something. "Oh right, I remember now – catch!"

Rachel fumbled then grasped the microphone Santana had thrown to her. "What's this for?"

"You sing with it, Berry. Like now."

"What? But I don't have anything prepared – " It was true; since the disastrous audition Rachel had shied away from public performing, nightmarish fears of forgetting the words haunting her.

"Don't worry, I picked out a song you know so well you could sing it in your sleep. You should join her, St James – it works well as a duet."

"What are you up to, Satan?" Jesse asked suspiciously as Santana began herding them towards the stage.

"Since Finn and Rachel are having a prom do-over, it's only right that Berry should sing a song dedicated to Finn like she did last year. Jesse, you get to stand in for Finn – you've had plenty of practice at that."

Before either of them could lodge a protest, Rachel and Jesse found themselves centre stage with a very familiar overture prodding them into performance mode. With an audience before them and the music behind them, what else could they do? Fears forgotten, Rachel dropped into her performance subspace and levelled Jesse with an accusing stare as she sang,

_Baby, you'll come knocking on my front door_

_Same old line you used to use before_

_I said ya, well_

_What am I supposed to do_

_I didn't know what I was getting into_

Together: _So you've had a little trouble in town_

_Now you're keeping some demons down_

_Stop draggin' my_

_Stop draggin' my_

_Stop draggin' my heart around_

Jesse took the next verse, casing Rachel with stealthy steps as he sang in reply.

_It's hard to think about what you've wanted_

_It's hard to think about what you've lost_

_This doesn't have to be the big get even_

_This doesn't have to be anything at all_

_I know you really want to tell me good-bye_

_I know you really want to be your own girl_

(Did he imagine the flicker of sadness in her eyes as he sang those last lines to her?)

Together: _Baby you could never look me in the eye_

_Yeah, you buckle with the weight of the world_

_Stop draggin' my_

_Stop draggin' my_

_Stop draggin' my heart around_

Damn Santana, Rachel thought as she sang. How can someone who seems so self-involved be so perceptive of others? Throwing herself into these lyrics was forcing her to find the emotions in herself that corresponded to them, and she was dismayed at how ready-made those emotions were, almost entirely thanks to Finn.

During the instrumental portion Jesse and Rachel came together in a sinuous dance that spoke of unwilling but undeniable attraction. They were so caught up in the throbbing beat they were blind to the throbbing glare of Rachel's fiancé, watching with the enamoured crowd.

_People running 'round loose in the world_

_Ain't got nothin' better to do_

_Than make a meal of some bright eyed kid_

_You need somebody looking after you_

_I know you really want to tell me good-bye_

_I know you really want to be your own girl_

Together: _Baby you could never look me in the eye_

_Yeah, you buckle with the weight of the world_

_Stop draggin' my_

_Stop draggin' my_

_Stop draggin' my heart around_

The cheers were thunderous as the song rocked to a conclusion and Rachel drank it down like the headiest of champagne. It had been so long since she had performed in front of an admiring crowd. She could not believe she had forgotten this feeling; she wondered how she ever thought she could live without it. When Jesse opened his arms to her, it just felt right to fall into them and join him in an ecstatic hug. She recognised the same wonderment on his face and guessed that it had been even longer for him since he had been so totally in his element.

But when she came down the stairs and saw Finn look at her with reproachful eyes, she was surprised in herself that instead of the expected guilt, all she felt was annoyance. She had just had a wonder-moment – why couldn't he let her bask in it for 10 minutes? So when he opened his mouth she shut him down. "Not now, Finn." And she tugged Jesse behind her by the hand, deliberately moving as far away from her fiancé as possible. She did not notice Quinn seated in her wheelchair at Finn's side, trying to keep up the pretence of perfect prom couple. If she had she might have seen more than enough guilt on her face to satisfy the situation.

"Finn, I'm so sorry," Quinn apologised to her stricken ex-boyfriend. "I never realised asking you to prom campaign with me would split you and Rachel up. I never would have suggested it if I had known."

"I can't believe she said that," Finn muttered to himself. "'Not now, Finn'. Rachel _always_ has time for me. She always listens to me. It's that St Jerkface that's messing everything up."

"It will be Okay, Finn," Quinn promised. "Rachel belongs with you – you guys are Finchel, for crying out loud. Besides, if anyone has messed things up for you, it's me."

"No, Quinn, this isn't your fault. Besides, we both owe you so much seeing as how you wouldn't be stuck in that wheelchair forever if you weren't rushing to our wedding."

"About that... actually – and this is a funny story, true story – I can walk."

"WHAT?!"

"I know, I know, Quinn, how could you be so manipulative, Rachel has nothing and you have everything, blah, blah blah. Look, let's just move past this because I think I know how to make it up to you two and bring you back together."

**A.N. The eleventh commandment – Thou shalt review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N. Here is the final chapter of my St Berry prom re-do. And now my story is complete! [does happy dance in celebration]**

Chapter 3

Hidden away in a corner behind the wallflower girls, Jesse and Rachel shared an armchair which had somehow found its way into the dinosaur themed prom because it was covered with Flintstone characters.

"That was..." Jesse began.

"...incredible." Rachel finished. They smiled dopey smiles at each other, both high on post-performance afterglow.

"Too bad you've given up your dreams and resigned yourself to being a soccer mom," Jesse remarked. "Ouch!"

"Not funny, St James."

"Am I to gather from that decidedly painful poke in the ribs that you have changed your mind about your hopeless future?"

Rachel sighed and leaned her head against Jesse's shoulder. "I don't know what I'm going to do exactly. It looks like NYADA is not an option."

"You know, there's this crazy rumour going about that NYADA is not the only college in America that specialises in performing arts. I've also heard it said that just because you fail at one audition doesn't necessarily mean you won't ace any future ones."

"Like you're one to preach, Mr Flunks-Out-Of-College-After-6-Months-And-Gives-Up- On-Higher-Education-Altogether," Rachel retorted.

"I didn't give up," Jesse argued. "I just decided to chase a different dream."

"What, becoming Vocal Adrenaline's coach? You're better than that, Jesse."

"If you'll recall, applying to Vocal Adrenaline was not my first action when I returned to Ohio. In fact, my first stop was at a small kingdom known as Lima wherein dwelled a very stubborn (but beautiful) princess. But alas, the princess refused to be rescued and chose the ogre instead."

Rachel stilled in his arms, her fingers ceasing from twirling the hair at the nape of his neck around her fingers. "Maybe if the prince hadn't egged the princess and then left her without a word for eight months, she would have been more likely to believe him when he said that he..."

"Loved her?"

"Yes, that."

"So it was a matter of faith, not feeling?" Jesse queried, his often-crushed hope stirring to life (seriously, if there was a nuclear war, the only survivors would be cockroaches and his dream to win Rachel back).

"Maybe," Rachel said softly, still finding her way through tangled emotions. She shook her head free of the cobwebs. "We were talking about the future, not the past. Now this Vocal Adrenaline gig – tell me you're not going to make it your life calling."

"Hardly," Jesse snorted. "Once we take Nationals, I'll have the money and the recognition to live in New York. I'm thinking I'll apply to Tisch, Juliard – maybe even give NYADA a second bite of the apple. And in my spare time I'll audition for every theatre production worthy of my talent."

"Second bite? You mean..."

"Yep. Applied, tried and fried. Apparently my diction for Giants in the Sky lacked crispness, according to the great Tibideaux."

"Jesse, this is – "

"Tragic?"

"Wonderful!" Rachel cried. "I mean, it's terrible for you," Rachel backtracked, "but if someone of your promise can be so utterly misjudged, then it just goes to show that anyone can mess up but that doesn't mean they are not still incredibly gifted."

"I'm not sure, were you complimenting me there or yourself?" Jesse asked with a fond smile.

"I like your New York plan, although I hope it still works for when you place second at Nationals after New Directions. But I think when you go to college you will need a special friend to keep you focused on your studies and not let you get sidetracked from your goals."

"Special friend, huh? Any candidates in mind?"

"Well, since I am also going to be applying to Tisch, Julliard and every other performing arts school in New York of good repute, it is very likely we will find ourselves sharing the same circles. Perhaps we could maybe meet up for coffee sometime?"

"Coffee would be good," Jesse said, his eyes heavy on Rachel's lips.

"Or maybe find each other at a student mixer," Rachel breathed, suddenly finding Jesse's mouth fascinating.

"Social networking _is _important," Jesse muttered, drawing Rachel closer. Their lips were an inch apart when...

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The couple froze at the amused voice of a certain hot jew. "Falling into old habits, Berry?"

"Puckerman. Your timing really sucks, you know this right?" Jesse sighed as Rachel nervously jumped up.

"Cockblock payback, St James, for that time in sophomore year I put the moves on Rachel but she wouldn't go for it because you had 'spoken for' her." Puck frowned slightly in Rachel's direction. "Although it looks like your whole stance on that fidelity thing has loosened up, from what I just saw."

"Noah, this isn't... we were just talking, I didn't mean for anything to happen," Rachel babbled in guilty confusion. Jesse's face fell, the all too familiar sensation of being led on by this one girl making his stomach hurt.

"No need to go running to Finn about this, Puckerman," Jesse said, standing up and straightening his tux's lapels. "You should know by now nothing that happens between me and Rachel will ever make a dent in her blind loyalty to Frankenteen."

"Jesse, wait," Rachel cried as Jesse turned away. "Where are you going?"

"This is my cue, isn't it? Now that you've stirred your loverboy into a jealous frenzy, you can bend him to your will while I fade into the background. I've played this part so many times now I can do it on autopilot."

"What if I don't want you to fade?" Rachel asked, jaw set at its stubborn tilt.

"What are you saying?" Jesse replied warily.

"Yeah, what are you saying, Berry?" Puck asked, stretching out in the recently vacated armchair as though settling in to enjoy the drama. Rachel rolled her eyes at him.

"Don't you have a punchbowl you could be spiking?" she inquired sarcastically.

"Already taken care of, with the help of one Becky Jackson," Puck imparted with a wide grin. "My life's dream of sneaking hard liquor into Coach Sylvester's punchbowl has finally come true."

"Fantastic," Jesse said, "I was wondering where I could find a stiff drink."

"But Jesse – " Rachel tried again.

"I'm sorry, Rachel, but you can't have both me and Finn at your disposal. And as history has taught me which one of us you always choose, I'm just making a pre-emptive strike by taking myself out of the running." His mouth twisted wryly as he squeezed her hand. "Maybe we'll run into each other in New York some day. Goodbye, Rachel." Then he turned and was soon swallowed up by the crowd. Rachel watched him go, her throat feeling hot and tight for some reason.

"New York, huh?" Puck said, watching the stricken girl curiously. "Thought you'd given up on that notion?"

"I had," Rachel spoke in a monotone. "It didn't seem realistic anymore."

Puck snorted. "Of course it doesn't, not in this town. You want to be anything bigger than a real estate agent in Lima and you'll get people telling you it'll never happen. Always thought you were smart enough not to listen to them, but I guess I was wrong."

"Oh, what do you know, Puckerman," Rachel spat. "Your life's dream was to spike a punch bowl. I suppose now you've achieved it you can die happy. It's a little different for people with serious goals."

"Hey, don't knock the small dreams, Berry, especially since you've joined the club and have traded your grand Broadway future in for them."

_I didn't! _Rachel's inner voice screamed. _I won't._ But with Jesse no longer by her side, those cold tendrils of doubt that had been choking her for the past few weeks began to curl their way inside once more.

"Hey, it's not so bad. You'll have your high school dream of being the school loser who rises to the top on the arm of her quarterback boyfriend. Finn got his dream of leading the Titans to their first championship last year. Quinn will probably get her dream of being prom queen later tonight, which kind of sucks for Becky as she had her heart set on it as well. Seriously, what is it about that stupid tiara that makes you girls act so crazy? I don't get it."

"It's not the tiara, Noah, it's the validation – to have the majority of the school body voting for you as the person they most admire and look up to – who wouldn't want that kind of accolade?" Rachel sighed, sitting down on the armrest of Puck's chair. "Don't worry," Rachel said in response to Puck's raised eyebrow, "that's one dream I've never striven for; I know my limitations."

"I don't know," Puck put his arm around her waist in comfort. "I think you'd make a cute prom queen."

Rachel smiled down at him sadly. "And I think you're kind of sweet. Insane, but sweet."

Their moment was interrupted by the principal's announcement of the results of the prom vote (after some mention of relocating snakes from the school toilets). Puck took Rachel's hand and lead her to the dance floor where she could already see the nominated prom kings and queens lined up on the stage. She looked around for Jesse and saw him on the other side of the room, sipping at a glass of punch, but he would not meet her eyes.

"And this year's prom king is... Mr Finn Hudson," Figgins announced. With a bashful grin Finn walked forwards, bowing down to allow Kurt to place the crown on his head. He looked out into the audience to find Rachel and winked at her. Knowing eyes were on her, she applauded his win, the very picture of a dutiful girlfriend. Yet she wondered why he had winked at her, and what was the meaning of the conspiratorial little smile he and Quinn were sharing?

"Students, for the second year in a row we have prom anarchy," Figgins announced as he looked at the prom queen card. "Receiving the majority of write in votes... Miss Rachel Berry."

For once in her life a spot light shone on Rachel she was unprepared for. She blinked in disbelief as her fellow seniors, the same people who had jeered at her, called her names and upended frozen beverages over her head, now applauded her, calling out her name and making a way for her to walk towards the podium where Finn stood, watching her with a proud smile. In a daze she walked towards him. She knew she ought to be ecstatic in this moment; being crowned prom queen was a fantasy of hers she had never told anybody, knowing it was an impossible dream. And there was a part of her, the lonely outcast Rachel, who gloried in this unlooked for victory. Yet there was another part that was wildly wondering what Jesse would make of this and would she have the chance to speak to him before he left.

Before she knew it, she was standing at Finn's side with Kurt behind her, a sparkling prom queen crown hovering over her head. "Just breathe," Kurt advised, lowering the trophy onto her shining tresses. This was it, her dream come true... but all she could see was Jesse, mouth twisted into that bitter smile, raising his glass in salute to her coronation, and then turning and walking towards the door.

"WAIT," Rachel cried, so abruptly Kurt dropped the tiara and it fell to the floor with a hollow clang. Rachel drew deep breaths as silence fell over the room. She didn't care that the admiration in her peers' eyes was fast turning to the familiar what-is-crazy-Berry-up-to-now look, all she cared was that a certain curly haired head had stopped his progress towards the nearest exit. "I'm sorry, I can't accept this," Rachel said, stooping down to pick up the crown at her feet. At this range she could see how fake the tiara was; obviously the school was going through another round of budget cuts.

"Rachel, what are you doing?" Finn hissed, grabbing her hand. "Just put the damn crown on and smile and wave. Then we can dance together, as king and queen of the whole school. Doesn't that sound good?"

Rachel shook Finn's hand off of her, "I'm sorry, Finn. I can't do that."

"Why not? Rach, this is your dream – you and me, on top, untouchable." Rachel shook her head; when he said it like that it all seemed so petty. Had she really wasted the last three years of her life chasing something so trivial?

"That dream is too small for me now, Finn," Rachel said quietly. "I've outgrown it." She picked up the skirt of her gown, preparing to walk away, but Finn's hand on her arm held her back.

"How can you be so ungrateful? After Quinn fixed the results so you would win and we could show everyone we belong together, and you just throw it all back in my face?"

Rachel looked stunned at this revelation, mainly from the concept that Quinn was capable of self-sacrifice. She looked towards the blonde and mouthed _sorry_ for making her act of kindness meaningless. Then she tugged off her engagement ring and gave it to Finn. "But we don't belong together, Finn, not in the real world. We made sense here in high school, where dreams are small and childish, but now it's time to grow up and become the people we were meant to be. And I'm sorry but I can't be that person with you." She craned her neck upwards and brushed a kiss against his cheek. "Goodbye, Finn."

Finn looked crushed but finally released his grasp on her, recognising the futility. Rachel hurried down the stage steps, her gaze fixed on a certain pair of blue-grey eyes that were watching her from the edge of the crowd. Jesse stood still, refusing to move towards her; this time Rachel would have to do all the work but she figured that she was due. When she was only a few feet away from him she suddenly froze in place as though remembering something. His heart stopped for the length of time it took her to hold up one finger, as though asking for a minute more of his long suffering patience. She then raised her wondrous voice which needed no amplification to be heard and lifted up the prom queen crown which she had unconsciously held onto.

"People of McKinley, I abdicate my crown in favour of one who is truly deserving of it. I give you your 2012 prom queen – Becky Jackson!"

She lowered the glittering circle over the short blonde girl's head with some difficulty as Becky began jumping in joy. No sooner was the crown on her head than she was practicing her "royal wave" at her stunned subjects, crowing "I did it, bitches!" Only then did Rachel complete her journey to stand before Jesse St James, free of _all_ fake diamond accessories.

"So," she said a little breathlessly, "About that coffee."

_Four months later..._

"Schwimmer! She calls me little miss Schwimmer and tells me my pique turns suck! Cassandra July is the most horrible, abusive shrew of a dance teacher ever created in the fires of Hell."

Jesse pushed a soy milk capp towards his girlfriend with an amused but sympathetic smile. "Really? That's surprising – she was very complimentary to me. Even offered to give me some private tutelage at her Soho loft."

Rachel looked aghast at the concept. "I swear, Jesse, if you ever give that harpy access to your body without the benefit of witnesses, then don't expect any access to _my _body in the near future." She sunk down into the cafe booth and took a long sip of her coffee, her frustration unravelling as the caffeine hit her bloodstream.

"Like I went through three years of chasing you to pass you over for a gin-soaked cougar," Jesse mocked. "Give me some credit, Rach." When his girlfriend continued to look broodingly at him he threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine, I'll help you work on your pique turns until even Cassandra July can find no fault."

Rachel smiled widely at him. "I knew there was a reason I loved you so much."

"There are many reasons," Jesse said airily, sipping at his Earl Grey tea with grace. "Now, tell me about something good that happened to you today."

Rachel threw her hair over one shoulder. "Well, Carmen Tibideaux did say that my rendition of _New York State of Mind_ was 'nice'," she admitted, not quite hiding her pleased smile at the memory. Jesse whistled.

"Impressive. People who have been at NYADA for four years would kill to get a 'nice' from Tibideaux, and you get one on your first day. Then of course, she does have a bit of a crush on you, ever since Nationals."

"Jesse, don't be silly!"

"I mean it! I saw the way she looked at you when you sang _It's all coming back to me now_. Her eyes lit up like she found the next Celine Dion." Rachel smiled at the memory of singing that song; she had selected it because it was like the lyrics were written solely for her and Jesse. It had made it that much easier to pour her heart into the number which stood as her greatest performance to date.

"Personally, I think it was the endorsement you gave when you cornered her in the hotel lobby that convinced Ms Tibideaux to give me a second chance. Not to mention she wouldn't have even been at Nationals if you hadn't convinced me to beg her to come until she said yes."

"I think the fact that both of us are here in New York, attending NYADA against all odds, proves that when we work together, nothing is impossible." Rachel smiled at Jesse his favourite smile, her eyes misty with happy tears. "What's wrong?" he asked, bemused.

"Nothing. It just takes my breath away sometimes."

"What does?"

"The way you make my dreams come true."

Jesse leaned over the table and claimed her lips with his own.

"Back at you, princess."

**THE END**

**Hope you enjoyed!**


End file.
